


The Next Right Thing

by Fericita



Series: When All Is Lost [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Frozen 2 - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21744427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fericita/pseuds/Fericita
Summary: The first time Agnarr and Iduna meet. Part 1 of a series of Agnarr/Iduna fics called "When All Is Lost," mostly canon-compliant.***This series was written before the Disney book "Dangerous Secrets" came out, so whether or not it's canon may change. Hooray for a book about these two!!***The Spastic Fantastic, you are The Very Best Beta and developing this story and this world and creating these OCs with you has been such a joy!
Relationships: Agnarr & Iduna (Disney), Agnarr/Iduna (Disney)
Series: When All Is Lost [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571230
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	The Next Right Thing

Iduna climbed a tree to better see the dam and the ceremony that was about to take place. She was supposed to be gathering berries for the feast, but to stay invisible while doing so. The feast was for all of the Arendellian laborers and engineers, and the handful of Northuldra delegates that had already been part of the dam construction. Most of the Northuldra people would remain hidden in their villages, still suspicious of these southlanders.

There had been arguments among her people about this ceremony, as there had been about the dam all throughout its construction. Her oldest brother thought it was just a way for the Arendellians to see Northuldra and how it could be controlled. He had been in the delegation sent to Arendelle, and warned of its military prowess of fast ships and superior weapons. Her father thought it was a genuine offer of peace and partnership, but thought the dam ostentatious, even harmful to the rhythms of the forest and river they had come to live by. The salmon would no longer be able to make their pilgrimage upstream, the bears might stop coming to find the fish, and without their fur what of Northuldra's ability to trap and trade? He urged his son that the most prudent course of action was to befriend these neighbors, even if they did not give them their trust.

So she was supposed to gather berries for a feast she couldn't even enjoy, for a people who may or may not even be good, on a day when she would much rather climb trees and play in the wind. As she crested the topmost branches, she saw the dam in its entirety. It was beautiful; a gleaming structure with arches and designs in the masonry. She had tagged along to help Anja mend some scrapes and smashed fingers among a work crew during construction, but now - from here, she could see it all at once. She wondered what else these people knew to make, and how she could learn about it. She wasn't sure if they were good or bad, but they were interesting. The soldiers from Arendelle did some marching and then stood still. Now the Arendellian King was making a speech, but she was too far away to hear.

She climbed back down, and followed the stream looking for berries to add to her basket. No berries, but she did find some boska growing in the crook of the stream. She pulled it up, pleased that she could give it to Anja for her medicinal stores. Boska wasn't very useful now, but soon when the days were shorter and the weather biting at their skin, all of Northuldra would want some to ward off fevers and runny noses. As she placed it in her basket, she heard a crunch behind her. She turned.

"Good morning, miss, my name is Prince Agnarr, and I'd very much like to find my way back to the soldiers and my father, but I got lost. Could you point me towards the dam?" He was holding on to a vine, which was attached to the neck of a sheep in a crude but effective collar. 

Iduna raised an eyebrow and looked at his strange clothes. Lost? He was her age, maybe even 15 or 16. How could someone practically grown get lost? And why was he holding on to a sheep? And why was he wearing a coat that looked like a dress in the back? 

He seemed to understand her expression and smiled in an abashed way. "Oh pardon me, do you speak only Northuldra? I'm still learning it, but I can try." He cleared his throat and looked up at the tree, as if the words would come from there. "Buorre idit, mu namma lea Agnarr."

Iduna cut him off. Mercifully. "Are you speaking to me or to the sheep? That sounds more like animal noises than anything else. And why are you holding on to that poor sheep?"

He laughed, relieved to be communicating, even if the questions indicated she did not think him intelligent.

"I'm rescuing it? It got away from the flock, and I saw it happen even though my father and the soldiers didn't, and I know there are bears around so I thought I better save him before he got into trouble, but now I seem to be in some trouble."

"We let the sheep wander. They see to their own meals, and we rarely lose any to bears."

"Oh." Agnarr suddenly seemed younger, unsure of himself. He adjusted his coat on his shoulders, his collar at his chin. Iduna noticed how the coattails flapped out and then back in, not unlike the sheep’s ears as it tried to pull away. "I thought I was being helpful. My father always tells me to try to be, but I rarely find things to do that he thinks are helpful. And now he'll be upset I missed the ceremony without even a lost sheep to show for it.”

Agnarr knelt down to untie the sheep, and gave it a scratch behind each ear. "Be gone with you then, found sheep, and may you ever stay out of the presence and stomachs of bears."

The sheep ambled off, in no great hurry to find his flock or avoid bears. Agnarr stood and brushed his hands on his waistcoat. Iduna drew her shawl tighter as the breeze grew stronger.

"The wind here seems to have a mind of its own."

"It does! Sometimes it plays with us- like a mischievous friend. I’ve even managed to get it to send flowers or herbs to my mother and Anja.”

“Really? Nothing like that can happen in Arendelle. No magic at all. We've heard rumors of trolls, but no one has seen one recently.”

Iduna wanted to show this boy, who had been so kind to a sheep, her wind spirit. She thought it would be funny to see his ridiculous coat flapping down by his head. Then the tails would really resemble ears. She sang four notes, clear and high. It was different than music Agnarr knew – haunting like a bukkehorn, but not as resonant. The sound was airy, like it was wind.  
Before the last note sounded, she was up in the air, as if an invisible giant had her by the ankle.

She laughed.

“Are you alright? What's happening?”

Iduna laughed again. “It’s a game we play! She won't hurt you.”

Agnarr smiled up at her, her hair brushing the top of his head from where she dangled by an unseen force. He felt a rush of air by his feet and then - 

It was a glorious feeling, bouncing in the air, almost like flying, sometimes like falling. “What’s your name?” He had to shout to be heard over the rush of wind and leaves that swirled around them.

“Iduna!” she shouted, and he thought he had never heard a more beautiful name. It sounded like the notes she sang. 

“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance Lady Iduna,” he bowed towards her, a difficult feat while being tossed about by a wind spirit, and came up with leaves stuck in his hair. 

She laughed again, and there were leaves in her hair, pinecones in the air, and a feeling in his chest that meant he was quite pleased indeed.  
***  
That night Agnarr looked for Iduna at the feast. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t at the reindeer games the next morning either, so he set out, hoping to find the place where they had played in the wind. He might not find her, but as long as he didn’t find a bear it would be a fine trip. He tried to imitate the song she sang, but couldn’t get the notes right. No matter, he would ask her to show him how to do it. And perhaps he could show her how to do something, since so far he had not done much to impress her. Surely he had some skill or knowledge she might be interested in? He had made it to the river below the clearing where the games were held, and was deciding if she would rather hear about the trade routes of Western Europe or the medicinal benefits of saunas when he heard a scream.

All at once, everything was on fire. A shout from hundreds, the cry of warriors meeting the clanging of metal in the distance. A fight had broken out, he was sure of it. Branches on fire fell down around him, boulders crashed into trees, shockwaves scattered pine needles on the forest floor. Agnarr looked up towards the clearing, where the game had been just moments ago, and saw his father through the rubble of trees and strewn rocks. His father, falling through the air and then lying very still on the ground, his limbs bent into impossible shapes on the ground. Her heard Lt. Mattias shout “The King is murdered!” and he ran towards the sound, thinking it made no sense; if he could just get there he could find his father, not this foreign shape on the ground, but his father, commanding and giant once more. But as he began to sprint, a boulder slammed into the ground behind him, and he fell to the ground. Everything went black.

***  
Iduna heard the screams from the river. She was still trying to obey her brother’s orders to stay hidden, and do a better job of it than yesterday when she befriended the future monarch of Arendelle. At the sound, she dropped her washing and ran. The fear in her felt like the wind spirit, tugging and pulling her to run and find her mother, her father, to see if her people were safe, if they were being attacked or doing the attacking. She tripped over a body and tasted dirt and blood. As she tried to right herself, she saw that it was Agnarr - with blood coming down his forehead, painting his whole face so that he too looked on fire. She put her hand on Agnarr's chest, relieved to feel the rise and fall. The knot on his head was large, but protruding out, not inward. The blood was not stopping, so she untied her hair leather and bound it around his wound. She picked up his head and put it in her lap, brushing his hair from his forehead and away from the makeshift tourniquet. Fire was leaping from branch to trunk and boulders as big as her home continued to fall. What could have made the fire and earth act in this way? Had they been angered?

“Help!” She shouted at no one in particular, “Help!” Then, desperate and uncertain if the Wind Spirit would come, she called out in four high notes. The effect was immediate. A gust of wind pushed her up as she held on to Agnarr. It was hard to breathe in the smoky air, and the wind took what breath she did have out of her lungs, but she held on and urged the wind to take them somewhere safe. Her head hit something wooden, and she looked down to see a cart with the Arendellian crest on its axle and supplies in its bed. She heaved Agnarr into the bed, wishing the wind hadn’t left before helping her with this part. She cushioned a blanket under his head, and then, hearing soldier’s voices, took another blanket to hide under.

“The Prince! Get him out of here!” More shouts and some grunts from reindeer, and then the cart was bouncing along, making rough turns to avoid new boulders and trees thrown down onto the path. She tried to stay silent but coughed as the smell of smoke became overwhelming. Now the smoke became a mist, full of vapor and no longer tearing at her eyes and scratching her throat. She risked a look over the blanket and saw that no one was driving the cart - the reindeer ran in a frenzied state, toward the tall stones marking the Northuldra border, and then past. 

Iduna reached up for the reins, pulled as hard as she could and managed to control the reindeer, jumping down from the cart and tucking the reins under a round rock. She was desperate to get back to her family. But as soon as she touched the mist, something strong pushed her back. “Let me in!” She rushed again. Again she fell back.

“Stop that! I have to go back!” She got up and ran once more, and this time the force knocked her several feet back. She ran to the edge of the mist, and sang the four familiar notes. She had trouble making the sound, her voice so sore from smoke and emotion choking her. It sounded like Northuldra rushed at once, but why? Had they planned to attack all along? Was that why she was sent to the river to wash? 

A low sound from the direction of the cart caught her attention, and Iduna's heart beat fast. The mound where she had so quickly stashed the reins turned and opened and stood up; she saw that it was a troll. A particularly fat troll, who seemed alarmed. 

“Who was angered the spirits? Why do they close this gate?”

Iduna knew she should feel astonished, but the surprises of this day were so complete she no longer felt any emotion except terror. “I don't know! I think my people may have attacked, or been attacked, but I must get back to find out!”

“No, no, this is deep magic, older than even trolls.” As he made this worrisome announcement, several more trolls rolled up, a small one hopping into the cart with Agnarr and placing a crystal near his head.

The largest trolls had a low, rumbling conversation while Iduna walked back to Agnarr, watching as the smaller troll moved the crystal and muttered words she could not understand. He then turned and spoke to her. “He will heal. But he will not remember this. I can fix the injury but magical wounds can be stubborn; there will be other things he forgets.” Before she had a chance to reply, another troll began to speak.

“The spirits are angry and the forest is sealed. As much for this world’s protection as your forest’s punishment. You must take the young prince home, and find a way to live among those people. You cannot return, perhaps ever. I have not seen this magic, and it must be watched. Brave Flemmy will stay and be our guard.”

From the looks on the other troll faces, Iduna could tell this wasn't good news.

“How will I know if I can return? My family . . . everyone is still there.” Her voice was rough, and the troll the others were calling Pabbie placed a mossy hand on her cheek.

“The mist keeps you safe. It contains the magic. There may come a time when all that’s lost will again be found. There may come a time when magic will be redone by even greater magic.”

Iduna thought of so many questions at once, she didn’t know what to ask. If the magic kept them safe, what of the people inside the mist? Had fire consumed them all? Were the spirits angry with her people, the Arendellians, or both? She remembered the anger in her brother's voice as he'd denounced the ceremony, and shivered. Could her family have betrayed the alliance? Iduna climbed into the cart, gave the reindeer a pat, and brought her shawl over Agnarr. 

Pabbie turned to the troll he called Flemmy. “The life of a guardian will be lonely, but trolls care for the earth in this way. You will become one with the earth, and we will help make it so.”

One by one, the trolls were rolling past the large troll, placing grasses on his rounded back.

"Wedged but not forgotten" each troll whispered into the troll’s ear, solemnly placing a tuft of grass on him. The troll made a sound like a sigh, and seemed to turn into a mountain, his grasses gleaming, his fungus shiny.

Pabbie raised his arms to Iduna. "Be at peace. Go to Arendelle and you will find a home, a life, even joy again. Just do the next right thing and it will come."

It felt like a blessing, but she found herself obeying it as if it were an order.

"The next right thing.” She coughed and wiped her eyes. “ The next right thing is to take this cart back to Arendelle. To get this prince to his castle.”

Iduna felt for Agnarr's steady breath, snapped the reins, and urged the reindeer on.


End file.
